


Another 2014

by tangerine (arte)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Episode: s05e04 The End, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Season/Series 09 Spoilers, Starts with Unhealthy Relationship, mention of 9x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arte/pseuds/tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Huh, small world," Cas mutters, wishing denizens from that universe would kindly stop barging into his dying world. It's not a damn tourist destination. "And when are you from?"</p><p>"2014."</p><p>The world tilts.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Endverse Cas meets with Castiel from season 9, who is also from 2014.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Another 2014

Dean zips up his pants, sits on the edge of the bed, and laces his boots. That's all he needs to do to become presentable again. 

Cas is not. The bite marks on his collarbone throb, his naked body is sweaty, and the dry semen on his abdomen feels disgusting. He thinks that Dean should have the decency to clean him up after Dean fucked him without even getting his own clothes off, but eh, he's forgetting that the fearless leader is busy these days.

"So, you still pumped for that insane plan of yours?" Cas props up on his elbow and reaches across the bed to get his pills inside the night table. It's nothing serious, just something that'll make him calm enough to have some rest, but Dean doesn't know that. He can feel Dean's glare at the back of his head. He enjoys the feeling. Oh, Dean can disapprove and lash out, even fuck Cas into the wall all he wants, but he can't take the drugs away. He thrashed all Cas's stash once and almost gotten the former angel killed while he was suffering from the withdrawal. He wouldn't dare anymore.

Not that any of that matters now. He's going to die tomorrow.

"You want some?" Cas offers, rattling the bottle loudly. His smile is full of teeth. 

"Get it out of my face," Dean grits out, tying the knot tightly for one last time.

"Gladly," Cas replies, and pops two pills into his mouth. He swallows them dry with expertise. "See?" he shakes the bottle, showing how empty it is. "All gone." At least in this one.

Dean knows. He glares. "You're a dick."

"And you like mine," Cas leers.

Dean's face abruptly shuts down. "Did you inform everyone about the tomorrow's plan?" he asks, suddenly all business.

Cas wonders how Dean's brain works sometimes. He doesn't shy away when they're doing horizontal dances, but he subverts or out right denies when any insinuation of liking men is thrown at his face. How does he justify that to himself? Then again, the world is easier to live when you don't have to ponder about some things too deeply. He relaxes as he feels the effect of the drug. 

"Yup, we're leaving, precisely at midnight. Including your past self," Cas says as he plops back onto the bed. He stares hazily up at the stain on the ceiling. It looks a bit like a bee. If you squint a little.

"Stop mentioning my past self," Dean says, and if the awkward way he ended the sentence is any indication, he didn't meant to let that slip by.

Laughter bursts out of Cas, because this is just fucking absurd. "So this was what it was all about?" He gestures vaguely at himself. "Oh, fearless leader."

"Shut up," Dean snaps. They both know that Dean hates it when Cas call him like that. 

"Don't worry," Cas snickers, ignoring the glower. "I'm not gonna fuck past you."

"Too good to fuck?"

The question makes both of them freeze. The only saving grace is that their positions don't allow them to see each other's expression clearly. Cas opens his mouth because he knows he has to say something, yet nothing comes. There are so many problems and wrong assumptions in that single sentence, and his throat closes up at the weight of the distance between them. At some point in his life, Cas knows that he would have fought harder to remedy the situation, but he has less than 12 hours to live, and years of pent up issues to solve. The drug makes his tongue leaden. 

After a moment of charged silence, the mattress creaks as Dean roughly shoves himself up. Cas closes his eyes and listens to Dean walking out on him.

The door slams shut.

Cas stays lying down.

\--

When Cas opens his eyes, he's sitting in a chair, wearing his loose blue shirts and dark jean, and overlooking a calm lake surrounded by colorful trees. He twists his body around to check every angle of the surrounding, and knows that this is where he visited Dean in his dream once, where Dean actually took him a year later when the situation had not been so dire. His whereabouts confirmed, Cas sags into his seat. He's surprised. He was sure that he'd get a nightmare today.

Stuck between being an angel and a human, sleeping has been an odd affair for him. If he doesn't slip into unconscious with copious amount of drugs and alcohol, he has to wade through his dreams completely aware. However, as he can't control where his dream goes, it does nothing to reduce the terror of nightmares, and only increases the awareness of how wicked his subconsciousness is. He wonders why today of all day decided to give him reprieve. He's used to having to fight in the battleground of his own construction every night. 

"I'm sorry I'm intruding your dream, this grace is hard to control," says a gravely voice, and Cas whips his body away in a instinctive move. 

He grips the smooth metal frame of the chair tightly as he stares at his visitor. A few feet in front of him stands a visage of himself as an angel- or Jimmy Novak, it has been too long- so familiar yet foreign. Same ruffled hair and blue eyes, but the trench coat has been replaced with something darker and shorter, the blue tie was gone, and the few buttons near his neck were loose. Most of all, there is a pair of tattered wings extending from his back, and it's this that makes Cas blanch.

Maybe he's been too quick to judge that this wasn't a nightmare.

"What, are you a ghost of Christmas past or something?" he says, trying not to show how rattled he is. Good going trying to beat your own subconsciousness, he mocks himself, but as he calms down, he realizes that the presence is too tangible to be imaginary.

"Who are you?" Cas asks again, wary and angry. He doesn't know why an angel finally decided to show its face after all this time, and it galls him that he can't discern one angel from another from the look alone. 

"I'm you," says the angel. "Well, you from the alternative universe to be precise. I'm sorry I'm intruding like this. I didn't mean to."

Well, this one is at least polite. Cas narrows his eyes, analyzing. "So you're not Zachariah from the past coming to gloat?"

"No," the angel shakes his head. "Although that makes me wonder why Zachariah would come to you."

Cas debates the merit of answering the question, but it's not like he's about to reveal a top secret even if this is really Zachariah. "He sent Dean here, from 2009."

Realization dawns on the angel's face. 

"That a familiar story?" 

"Dean has indeed been sent somewhere by Zachariah in 2009," says the angel- Castiel, he might as well call him that. "I believe this might be the place."

"Huh, small world," Cas mutters, wishing denizens from that universe would kindly stop barging into his dying world. It's not a damn tourist destination. "And when are you from?"

"2014."

The world tilts.

"2014," Cas repeats. His mouth is dry. "And you're still an angel."

Castiel inclines his head, although he looks uncertain. "In a sense."

Thousands of questions explode in his mind. Cas tries very hard not to snap. He exhales slowly, and very calmly asks, "Did Dean say yes in your universe?"

"No."

"Then what did he do?"

"I'm not exactly sure where turning point for you universe and mine lies-"

"Castiel!" he shouts. He's suddenly forming rapid understanding for Dean's frustration with dealing with him in the past, and that is not a good feeling. "What did Dean do after he returned."

Castiel looked at him- was that pity in his eyes, fuck that- and softly said, "He called Sam."

Cas stop breathing. "Did Sam still say yes?"

A pained look enters Castiel's face. "Castiel, you have to understand-"

"It's Cas," he snaps. "And answer the damn question."

"Yes, he did," the angel complies after a moment. 

"Why?"

"So that he could jump into the Pit so Lucifer can be sealed once again."

Castiel is still an angel. Numbness spreads over Cas. "He stopped the Apocalypse," he says vacantly.

"Yes."

Cas rests his elbow on the armrests for support. Dean working with Sam, that's all it took to stop the Apocalypse. 

Cas remembers all the times Dean twirled his phone as he looked at it with conflicted expression. He remembers all the times he noticed this, all the times Dean noticing him looking, and tried to distract both of them with some light hearted activities or jobs depending on the situation. Bobby tried to make Dean contact Sam, but Cas had told Bobby to stop because he feared Dean was starting to push Bobby away, and the man was the support that Dean couldn't loose. Dean and Cas slept together the first time when Dean was despairing and got drunk. They never talked about it, never did that again until the day Sam said yes. They fell in bad together because they wanted to forget, that has been the status quo.

Cas feels too sober to deal with this. Can he get drugged out in his dream? He buries his face in his hand because he can't stop giggling. "God, I should've just fucked off when I figured finding God was a pipe dream, shouldn't I?"

"Wha-"

"I thought I was helping by staying, but I was just getting in the way. If I wasn't there to let Dean distract himself, he would've called Sam. He hates being alone."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, but I know I fucked up somewhere," his eyes are burning, and god, don't you dare have a breakdown in front of the angel. "You're the proof."

The angel sighs and kneels in front him. Cas raises his head because the gesture is so unexpected. 

"I understand the feeling, but I also know how stubborn Dean can be when he's convinced he should be isolated from the others," Castiel hesitantly puts his hand on Cas's hand. "I'm glad Dean wasn't alone here."

Cas looks at the blue eyes, tired and sagged but clear in a way that his own hasn't been for years. The gentleness in them burns him with shame, as he is full of jealousy and other jaded emotions. He should be happy that at least some other universes dodged the Apocalypse, that somewhere there was Castiel who still has his shit together. It twists his stomach that it's beyond him.

Is this what Dean felt when he encountered his past self? It's like salt to open injury, rubbing how broken you are and how even your own self would find you disgusting. Only this is worse, because this is not his naïve and unexperienced past self, but someone he could have been.

"Was I, though? I buried myself in decadence because I couldn't deal with anything. We grew apart, Dean might as well have been alone," Cas confesses and closes his eyes. He feels drained even though he's technically asleep. "You don't have to hold back, lay it on me. Read my riot acts."

"I'm not in the position to judge anyone," Castiel says quietly. 

"Sure you're. You're not the one who became a useless junkie in the middle of the Apocalypse."

"I hadn't been human long enough to develop addiction, but I can't tell for certain I wouldn't have, especially if I was in the middle of the Apocalypse."

Cas opened his eyes. Surely he misheard it? "Are you implying that you were human once?"

"I- yes."

"Then how are you an angel again?"

Castiel bites his lips, fingers twitching, and Cas suddenly realizes how human that gesture is. 

"I stole another angel's grace," comes the hesitant reply.

Now Cas is staring, because that's the move that he didn't even consider doing when the angels had been around and he had been falling. The act is more than about breaking taboo, because there is no precedence as far as he knows. The idea is just repulsive. How can someone steal what is the most integral part of being an angel? How did this Cas even know that taking other's grace would work?

Castiel must have read the horror and disbelief in his eyes, for he only smiled painfully. "I'm afraid I'm not the proof that you could have suceeded if you tried harder," he withdraws his hand away from Cas's hand. "I'm just the proof that you could have fucked up in a different way."

With that, Castiel starts to stand up, probably to step away and disappear. 

Like Hell Cas will let him. 

Cas yanks his arm down, hard enough for Castiel to fall back to the ground one knee, and before the angel can regain his balance, Cas wraps his other arm around the angels neck and pulls him close. 

Blue eyes look at him, startled and vulnerable. There's question in them, but Cas's not operating on logic. He nips at the corner of the angel's mouth, asking, feeling this need to get close. Castiel stays frozen in his arms for a second, but haltingly, he opens his mouth and lets Cas in. 

Although the kiss has started out frantic, it changes once Castiel begins to relax. The angel nibbles at Cas's bottom lip and coaxes his tongue down, gently taking the reign away. Cas is used to desperate and angry kisses that are practically another form of attack, yet he does not feel the need to fight this. He lets himself enjoy the warmth and the slow pace.

Their lips break apart after a moment, but their eyes find each other. Cas muses that the pair of them must make a strange mirror image.

"I thought you'd taste more angelic," Cas says just to prevent any awkward silence.

Castiel tilts his head, and Cas finally can see first-hand what Dean meant when he says it looks bird-like. "Are you disappointed?"

"No," Cas says, and lets go of the angel so he can either sit or stand more comfortably. "I didn't kiss you because you were being angelic."

"Then why?"

That's the question of the day, isn't it. Why did he do it? He softly touches his lips, looking back and trying to find a way to articulate his motive.

"Because humanity broke me, and not you. I wanted to taste how it's like," Cas surprises himself with a burst of open honesty. He doesn't remember how long it has been since truth was used plainly rather than a sharpest knife to wound.

"You're no more broken than I'm," Castiel protests, still ridiculously half-crumbled on the ground.

"Maybe," Cas allows. He grabs the lapels of the angels coat and tugs them up, because Castiel's position makes him uncomfortable. "But- you're broken in a way that still makes you care. Kind. I'm all just sharp edges taped together with drugs."

"So why're you helping me up?" Castiel retorts stubbornly, still half-stooped.

"Baby, I'm manhandling you," Cas responds with a quirked eyebrow. "If this seems like helping, I have to wonder about your standard."

"The last person I kissed tied me down and tortured me next morning."

That effectively stops Cas. "What, seriously?"

"Why would I joke about this?" Castiel says calmly, and it seems wrong that the angel had worse sexual experience than Cas, who was more of a whore. His hands softened inadvertently, and that turned out to be a mistake.

"You care," Castiel points out, smug as a cat.

"That's not-," Cas starts, but he knows what kind of bastard he is, so he gives up. That's when the sentence he heard actually enters his brain and not just the warning light that screamed _Caution! Trauma_.

"Hold on, what about Dean?"

"Dean?"

"You don't seem to be the type to kiss random people, and you wouldn't be still sane if Dean tortured you, so does that mean you and Dean are-"

"We're good friends," Castiel says, too fast.

Cas stares and starts to grin. Too much feelings are churning uncomfortly in his stomach - jealousy, admiration, embarassment- for him to miss the chance to mess with the angel. "Remember who you're talking to, will you? We know that's not the end of it."

"It is." 

"Really, are we going to go to that route?"

"Please, leave it be. It's too late."

Cas feels his mood for teasing evaporating in the face of genuine misery in the angel's voice. The look of resignation is so familiar that it aches. It sucks that there's nothing here for him to numb him down.

"Alright, explain," he sighs and clambers down from his chair to sit on the wooden platform. He pats the spot next to him. Castiel looks at him, uncomprehending. "Although it saddens me that I already wasted my energy on making you stand up straight, this conversation requires level ground and I'm not standing around while you talk," he throws his hands up when still gets no response. "You win, I care. Now will you sit down and talk?"

There's a tiny twitch in the corner of Castiel's mouth as he complies. 

"You little shit," Cas narrows his eyes, catching on, but shakes his head. "So what's the problem, and the world nearly ending doesn't count, because from personal experience I can tell you it won't stop you from falling in bed together with him." Of course, this could lead to a dysfunctional relationship where love only hurts, but it's neither here nor there for this conversation.

After much cajoling and half threats Castiel admits, "I'm dying. When my stolen grace burns out, so will I. I don't want Dean to grieve any more for me because I burdened him unnecessarily with my feelings."

"You've only got few years ahead of you?"

"Few months, if we're trying to be optimistic."

Alright, that certainly puts a wrench on the things.

Cas rakes a hand through his hair. It sucks, but he still feels the need to say this. "You know, Dean won't be fine after you die whether or not you confesse to him," he raises his palm up to stall the angel. "I know, if there's a slight chance that he'll be a little more fine, you'll go for it. But if your Dean is anything like mine, he'll care obsessively. Once he lets you in, there's no out," Cas repeats the old line Bobby gave to him, the meaning sinking into him after many years of hurt. "Of course, that doesn't mean that he won't show his love in a cruel and twisted way, and ends up hurting both himself and you," he collects his past observations, piecing them together so that it'll form something meaningful. "But if I learned one thing from Dean- it's that he always care much more than he lets anybody else see it. If your main concern is that he'll be hurt after your death, buddy, I'm afraid there's nothing you can do to make him care less. He's all or nothing kind of guy."

Castiel now looks sad in a different way, and really, Cas should have known that he sucks at cheering anyone up unless he was half out of his mind and in a pleasant haze.

"Ignore me, god knows listening to my relationship advice leads to nothing but disaster-"

"Thank you," Castiel says before he can ramble on any further. "I- you're great at caring."

He sounds so earnest, and Cas feels like blushing. It's such an odd sensation.

"Ah, when did I become so sweet?" Cas aims for sarcasm and fails. He gives up. Apparently, sincerity is catching. "So what happens when I wake up? Do you go back to your universe, or will you be in trouble?"

"I'll be alright," Castiel says neutrally, and Cas guesses that this is as good as he could ever hope to get.

"Good," Cas says, grinning. "You wanna play in the water until I wake up?"

\--

Cas opens his eyes and it's dark around him. He rolls onto his stomach to check the time, and finds out that there's still about an hour left before he has to go. He's relieved. He needs time to process all that happened in his dream. 

It's been such a shock, seeing the possibility laid in front of him, how the humanity could soften him instead of hardening him. Cas has to admit he liked what he saw, much more than what he saw in the mirror these days. Castiel had his pathetic moments for sure, but also stronger where it counted. Death didn't deter him from being kind. Cas thinks that if this is going to be his last day, that's how he want to go. He doesn't want to feel bitter and empty when he draws his last breath.

Besides, past Dean has a hope yet. Cas is pretty much resigned to the fact that he wouldn't have enough time to sort his own problems out, but surely he can nudge past Dean to more positive direction? Cas said his Dean called Sam. Maybe past Cas in Castiel's world helped in that regard.

All that wouldn't happen if he just continues to lie down. He needs to stand up. He also wouldn't say no to washing up, he wrinkles his nose as he looks down at his body. Swimming in a clear lake one second and waking up with cold sweats on bed the next gives him unpleasant cognitive whiplash. He slides down his bed.

He has a few points to make.

\--

Anticipation, not to mention the very cold shower he had to take for lack of options, makes him finish everything he needs in a record time. At the rate he has been going, he could've confronted Dean with minutes to spare, but he waits until the very last second, right before they all have to load up on the cars. 

It seems like a wise decision, given that Dean has paired Cas up with his past self. Cas wonders if this is some sort of passive agressive tactic, or Dean being thoughtful in his own twisted anyway. Whatever it is, it won't do squat on making Dean avoid him. 

Cas skims through the various cars until he finds his target, doing the last minute check with the other guys.

"Dean, there's something you need to know," Cas says, knowing that Dean would try to brush him off.

"What is it."

"Private."

Code for, _You don't want me to air it out in front of your men._

"Not now, Cas," Dean replies predictably. "We've got things to do."

"Hmm, I wonder," Cas muses out in his most exaggerated, thoughtful voice. "Which do you think would go up faster, indulging me for like 30 seconds, or testing who can outstubborn one another?"

The other guys look between him and Dean furtively, as they have been doing for quite some times. No one likes this much tension between their leader and his weird ex-angel sidekick, especially right before the important mission. 

Dean grits his teeth. He knows that he needs Cas on his side if he were to succeed in whatever suicidal plan he's making.

"Thirty seconds," he growls and stomps away to a spot that would offer more privacy. Cas follows after him quietly, and when Dean turns around after finding big enough tree to hide behind, he yanks him forward and kisses him firmly on the mouth to shut him up. He'll not let Dean ruin this.

Dean raises his brow, but doesn't speak. He seems more surprised at the kiss being so chaste and not leading to anything more.

"Dean, I know we had our differences," Cas starts before Dean can interrupt. "And I'm sorry that I haven't always been there for you, but know that I love you. I may like past you, but you're the one I choose. You're the one who dragged me up when I saw no reason to go on. I regret that I couldn't have handled the situation better, but I don't blame you for anything. I'll do anything to make sure you succeed in this mission and live to see past it. Good luck," he gives a tight hug to Dean who could have very well been a solid statue at this point. That's okay. That's what Cas has been counting on. That Dean would be too distracted by sudden outpouring of emotional honesty to lash out. He only hopes that it won't distract Dean to the point of messing up the mission. He tried to be as straightforward as possible to leave no room for interpretation, but who knows with Dean?

Cas turns away without waiting for answer. As Dean said, they had things to do.

\--

"Let me see those," past Dean says as he sees Cas popping up the pills. Cas grins wrly. He didn't mean to unnerve past Dean anymore than necessary, but withdrawal is a bitch and he can't afford to have that in the middle of battle.

"You want some?" He can't resist a light teasing, because he knows this Dean'll react differently. 

"Amphetamines?" 

"It's the perfect antidote to that absinthe."

"Mmm," says Dean, looking troubled. "Don't get me wrong, Cas. I, uh. I'm happy that the stick is out of your ass, but—what's going on—w-with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap?" 

Cas laughs.

"What's so funny?" 

He shakes his head. "Just that you're you. I don't know if you're trying to tread lightly or be as offensive as possible."

"I'm not," Dean protests immediately, then seemingly rewinds what he said earlier in his mind. "I'm not trying to be offensive. I'm just-"

"Unnerved as hell?"

Dean opens his mouth, but doesn't protest.

Cas decides to have mercy on him. He thinks he might have thrown sarcastic gibes at past Dean before the dream, but he doesn't want to traumatise past Dean into saying yes now. 

"Long story short, I went mortal. Didn't deal with it well."

"Oh," Dean says awkwardly, looking guilty.

"It's not your fault."

"If I hadn't dragged you away from Heaven-"

"Don't insult me, Dean," Cas cuts in sharply. "I was an angel of the Lord. If I hadn't wanted to be moved, I would have told you to piss off myself. Not everything is your fault. Other people are as capable as you to fuck up."

"No need to be harsh," Dean mutters, but the guilt eases off on his face.

"I wasn't trying to be," Cas sighs. "It's not future you's fault either. Things just had a way of getting worse. We pushed each other away when we were all we had. Communication problem, I guess."

"What, you thinks talking would have made everything better?" Dean starts out lightly, but his face darkens, and Cas knows that he's reminded of Sam.

"I don't know, does not talking ever made things better?" Cas lets the question hang in the air. "It only led to explosion in my case," he adds. Dean doesn't answer, but his expression is more thoughtful than brooding. Cas calculated that he did enough prodding without freaking Dean out, and focuses on driving.

-

They arrive in Jackson Country Saniturium. Everything is too quiet for it to be not a trap, and Cas grimaces as he can see what would likely to happen.

"Cas, a word," he hears it uttered right besides his ears and before he knows it, he's being dragged away by the elbow. Past Dean looks at him with wide eyed alarm, so Cas waves at him in what he hopes is a reassuring way. He doesn't need another dick waving match between them.

"What the hell was that?" Dean questions as soon as they're safe distance away.

"What's what?"

"Don't play that," Dean narrows his eyes. "Back at the base, what was all that-"

"Just wanted to clear a few things before we die." 

Dean's expression is beyond frustrated as he musses up his hair. "Why now?"

Cas readies himself with a flippant remark, but one look at Dean tells him that it would be unfair.

He smiles wrly. "It's my last day on Earth. Is it so hard for you to believe that I didn't want to leave you on bad terms?"

"Cas," Dean says, looking lost.

"We'll do our best," it's feeble, but that's the best reassurance Cas can come up with now. He gestures at Dean. "Let's go, the team's waiting."

Dean steps forward, but not to leave. There's hot and desperate lips on his mouth, and Cas takes it, sad and knowing.

"This is not your last day on Earth," Dean says after a moment, fire in his eyes for the first time in many years.

"Dean."

"No, seriously, we can't-," he exhales loudly. "I know we have a snowball of chance in hell if we're very lucky, but we're not going in there to die, you understand? I'm gonna kill you if you end up dead."

Cas smirks crookedly. "Then you'll have to be alive to kill me." They look at each other, and share something they've lost along the way.

When they walk back to the car together, the distance between them is so small that their shoulders are brusing together. Past Dean watches them, expression unreadable.

"Alright, team," Dean speaks with low voice. "This is how we're going to do."

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at writing anything that wasn't safely within the pg-13 area. Writing two Cas from 2014 was a joy. I welcome any feedbacks ;)


End file.
